


I Promise

by mallowhearts (boyspider)



Category: Warrior Cats - Fandom, Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: AU, Eye Trauma, F/M, Fix-It, Graphic Description, M/M, Multi, Nightmares, Not Beta Read, Other, Violence, and also everything else is okay, and also swiftpaw is gay and trans, more to add thats all ive got right now, swiftpaw survives au, trans swiftpaw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-21 17:31:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18707053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boyspider/pseuds/mallowhearts
Summary: How long had he been fighting? How long had he been laying there in that spot, wondering what had happened? How long had Brightpaw been down? His yellow gaze slid slowly over to where Brightpaw lay, and one thought was able to pull through all of the fog and pain that clouded Swiftpaw’s thoughts.Protect her.





	I Promise

**Author's Note:**

> hey there! so i never thought i'd be writing warrior cats fanfic, but after a conversation with my friend about an au i had i decided to maybe write something.
> 
> i have no outline or plan for this and im just figuring it out as i go, so pls bare with me ! i also dont have a beta to read this stuff, so if you catch minor errors feel free to comment and let me know (respectfully if you do, please)
> 
> i think thats it ! you can check out my tumblr (mallowhearts) for some of my art and just warrior cats stuff, otherwise thank you so much for reading and kudos and comments are much appreciated!

_He swears the last he saw, Brightpaw had been grinning at him with the last notes of her twinkling laughter fading into the hymns of late-night birdsong and wind through the trees. Her eyes had been bright despite the moonlight being less than striking, alight with the same fire that licked at his paws as they’d set out into the territory. He was certain that was the scene he’d been in just heartbeats before._

_So how had he ended up in the hellscape he occupied in this moment?_

 

 

_“Run!”_

The command had been torn from Swiftpaw’s throat as soon as the rest of the dogs emerged, but before he could move himself, teeth clamped down on his shoulders with a sudden burst of white-hot pain. He was able to wrench himself away and get a good swipe in at the dog’s ugly maw, but despite himself and every muscle screaming for him to heed his own advice, he couldn’t focus on the predator. His yellow eyes were searching wildly for Brightpaw, hoping he would see her disappearing into the underbrush or perhaps up into one of the trees, hoping she would be safe.

But Swiftpaw knew better than to hope. He'd been hoping for moons that Bluestar would recognize  ~~his~~ their potential, that she'd be forced to make  ~~him~~ them warriors. He had prayed to Starclan, begged Fireheart to ask her just one more time, questioned Longtail amidst tears and shouting why he wasn't good enough. Why the no-good kittypet had been made a warrior in his place. He hoped and hoped and hoped, and it was all futile.

Brightpaw’s eyes were wide as the full moon and her gaze bore right into his own, but a ferocity he’d never noticed swam in those all-encompassing green depths and he knew then he’d made a mistake in bringing her. Bringing any of the other apprentices would have been a mistake too, but maybe they would have been smart enough to run. To realize this fight- _Swiftpaw’s_ fight, was not one worth fighting for, and heed the desperation in his call.

Brightpaw was not like the other apprentices- she had other plans and had made it evident she was not going to be following her friend’s commands if her next actions said anything. Instead she caterwauled and threw herself at one of the dogs with her teeth bared and claws unsheathed, and Swiftpaw wished with everything he had that he could will her away from here. Far away, far from it all, far from his stubborn pride and Bluestar’s madness and these _damn dogs-_

He was forced back into the fight and away from his own thoughts when the dog he’d been scratching at snapped its jaws forward and bit down hard on Swiftpaw’s ear. Blood suddenly streamed down his face, and it took a few good strikes before he was let go. Briefly he realized he couldn’t feel his ear, only pain, and his fight or flight screamed at him to get out of there, get out get out _get out_.

His paw’s scrambled as he turned from the pack, needing a moment to right himself and think if he could be afforded even that. With blood trickling down his face and a stiff tension in his shoulders, it was hard to focus and strategize. Not to mention Brightpaw was still locked in combat with the smallest of the dogs, and he wasn’t sure if it was the injuries or his worry that made his head pound with every heartbeat. Despite that ache he shook his head and scanned the area with the few moments he had.

Seven dogs. Some were easily three times his size (and he was taller than Brightpaw), others were bigger still. If they turned and fled, they could escape with just their current injuries- but where would they go? Not to camp, not where the others could be endangered. The Gorge maybe? But if they fell, they’d likely drown. His eyes locked with a black and brown beast of a dog, muttering under its breath the mantra the dogs had entered with, and with only the slightest tinge of fear Swiftpaw realized they only had one option.

_We have to fight. We have to win here._

With one more sideways glance at Brightpaw and a shake of his pelt, Swiftpaw threw himself back into the fray with a battle cry of his own. His claws dug into the dog’s chest and he sunk his teeth into its neck, shaking his head back and forth to try and bite deeper and deeper still. He vaguely registered being shaken off, but he simply turned his attack to the dog’s long legs instead. Incapacitating the creature would put him at an advantage.

He jumped up when another dog latched onto his tail, hissing and spitting as he tried to free himself and wound the dog as much as he could. Swiftpaw felt a crunch in his tail and shrieked, but adrenaline kept him moving despite the throbbing pain. He didn’t know how long he swiped and bit at the dog until he was free, but as soon as he was, he was rolling out of the way of snapping jaws and standing to his full height without issue.

The first thing he noticed when he stood was not his own pain, however. No- it was a cry of agony from behind him that sent chills up his spine. Swiftpaw whipped around in time to see a dog snap at Brightpaw’s hind leg, rearing its head and sending her into the air. That was not the worst of it though. He made to run to her, pick her back up and ensure her safety, but the dog nearest to her was quicker, and the events to follow made Swiftpaw’s world lilt.

The dog’s jaws clamped down on her _face_ , oh _Starclan_ , and he watched helplessly as it continued to bite harder and harder and Brightpaw screamed. He would never forget the sickening pop and the way her body went limp, the dog shaking her like she was a piece of prey. He wouldn’t forget how her left eye rolled back into her head, while her right eye rolled _onto the ground no no no_ -

He wouldn’t remember the events that followed clear enough to recount.

 

Swiftpaw wouldn’t be able to recall with any clarity how he’d launched himself at the dog, barreling into its side and screaming as he tore at it with all he had. How he’d taken down that one on pure rage alone and stood over Brightpaw protectively as he faced the rest. How he launched himself back into the fray despite a constant ringing in his ear and his own blood seeping onto his own white pelt (and how he convinced himself it was the blood of the dogs to stay sane).

He was tossed, shaken, beaten and broken but he would not back down. Now that Brightpaw was down, it was like the strength of all of Starclan flowed through him. That, or he was so full of adrenaline that he wasn’t sure he could feel pain any more. That was until he jumped a second too late, and teeth sunk deep into his hind leg and then sunk further. He couldn’t tell which dog it was that shook him by his leg, but he knew that it hurt so bad he couldn’t keep his eyes open.

The pain was so horrible that he couldn’t even tell what really happened to him. Swiftpaw thought vaguely that his leg had been torn off like a grasshopper’s, but when he looked it was _there_ , just stained fully red. Same with his stomach, tail, most of his pelt. He was bleeding a lot, he recognized vaguely.

The same vague recognition picked up on a far-off whistle, a shout, and the fact that he was falling back to the ground. Another shout filled the air, and as though he was receiving mercy from Starclan themselves, the dogs retreated like nothing at all had happened. He was left only with the fading mantra of _“Pack. Pack. Kill. Kill.”_ , gasping for air and looking around with blurred vision.

How long had he been fighting? How long had he been laying there in that spot, wondering what had happened? How long had Brightpaw been down? His yellow gaze slid slowly over to where Brightpaw lay, and one thought was able to pull through all of the fog and pain that clouded Swiftpaw’s thoughts.

_Protect her._

 

By some miracle Swiftpaw stood then. The most recently injured leg was limp when he tried to move it, so the limb dragged as he made his way closer to his friend. He couldn’t even be bothered to worry about what that could mean in that moment, and instead he took a quick look over the molly and assessed her injuries to his best ability.

She was beat up, bite marks marking her normally clean pelt and blood staining the white of her fur. The right side of her face was a mess of blood, the skin there broken deep, and he would have blanched at the sight if he wasn’t so tired. She looked so small laying there, frail and injured, and briefly he thought she was dead- her left eye stayed open but out of focus, and void of the light that had been there prior. The stuttered rise and fall of her chest gave him hope though, and he sighed and spat some blood on the ground as it filled his mouth.

With a groan, Swiftpaw lowered himself onto the ground and curled slowly and shakily around the molly. He held her close like she would disappear of he let her go, paws wrapped around her and holding her shivering frame close. Together they stayed like that, him curled around her protectively in case those damned dogs returned. He would keep her safe like this, he was sure.

His blood loss seemed to have other plans though, and with a few labored breaths black began to encroach on his vision. He wanted to stay awake damnit. She had almost _died_ because of his grievances- hell, she was probably was dying right now. His best friend through everything, his confidante, the only cat _stupid_ enough to believe without a shadow of a doubt that Swiftpaw's insane plan to make them warriors would work. She had encouraged it, even. With a broken whine he buried his muzzle in her blood-stained fur, and despite the need to stay awake and protect her, the land of the living seemed farther and farther from Swiftpaw with every shallow breath he took.

He breathed one solemn promise into her fur before consciousness slipped away from him.

 

_“I will keep you safe.”_


End file.
